The Untold Story of the Nazgûl
by Shadowgirl1
Summary: The Ringwraiths' points of view throughout LOTR. R & R please!
1. The Shadow Realm

Disclaimer: I'm not Tolkien and I don't own anything by him, I'm just expanding on his story.  
  
The Shadow realm is a place where souls who do not have a body reside. They remain in this realm of shadows until they are called upon by their masters or some higher power. Meanwhile they wait, biding their time, reflecting on their former life and become shadows themselves. Shadows of who they once were.  
  
The "Nine doomed to die" reside in this realm. Proud and mighty kings they were until their pride overtook them and they became Sauron's most terrible servants. Sauron was their Dark Lord, their master. They waited for his return, for him to call on them once again.  
  
Sauron was not a shadow; a shadow is only one small part of his power. He remained in the dark watching and waiting for the One ring to resurface once more. In the dark Sauron bided his time and in the shadows the Nine waited. They knew their time would come.  
  
In the Shire at Bilbo Baggins's eleventy first birthday party, Frodo's thirty third, the moment the ring slipped onto Bilbo's finger it sent a beacon that alerted Sauron and stirred the Nine.  
  
The Ring...  
  
A voice echoed in the Shadow realm. Sauron had felt the power of his ring resurface and the Nine grew restless waiting for their master's command.  
  
*****  
  
Well, that's what I have so far. I hope you like it and enjoy the perspective of the Riders thus far. In the next chapter more will be revealed...  
  
Please Review!!! 


	2. Names and origins of Black Riders

Disclaimer: I'm not Tolkien, I don't own anything of his. The names and places I made up are products of my mind, except for Sauron of coarse. Names of places have been changed over time, especially the kingdoms of the "Nine mortal men, doomed to die." So no one knows except Tolkien...  
  
"My servants gather together...your master calls."  
  
Nine dark shadows gathered in the darkest depths of the shadow realm. A fiery form appeared in front of the nine. A figure too dark to see stood before the shadows. Clad in dark armor he was an intimidating sight. The tallest of the nine walked forward and kneeled before his dark lord.  
  
"We are ready to serve master, you command and we shall obey."  
  
Drawing his sword the Rider placed it in front of him.  
  
"Witch-King of Angmar it pleases me that you are ready and willing to serve. As the Lord of the Nazgûl, your loyalty and deeds of the past have earned you to be the Black Captain of the task I shall set before you. The task of bringing me the rest of my power and everlasting evil, which is embodied in my Ring," Sauron stated in Black Speech.  
  
"My Lord, I humbly await the day when you will rule and when evil will reign. I offer my sword to eternal darkness and your rule," the Witch-King replied.  
  
Sauron nodded his head in satisfaction.  
  
"Who else among you is ready to serve? Are you ready Khamûl, Shadow of the East?" Sauron asked.  
  
Falling to one knee and placing his sword in front of him he said, "I exist to serve you and evil my Lord. It will be an honor to plague the mortals with evil."  
  
"Melkan of Alestin?"  
  
Kneeling he said, "we will find the One Ring my Lord so that you may rule unhindered, with complete control. It is my sworn duty to help you do so."  
  
"Seykin of Vishale?"  
  
Dropping to one knee he said, "we will find the one who bears the Ring and show them the true face of evil. When you have the Ring my Lord you shall be that face."  
  
"Dakian of Tanenur? What say you?"  
  
Kneeling and bowing his head he said, "I say that evil will triumph my Lord and when it does you will be unstoppable."  
  
"Adierel of Dekire?"  
  
Crossing an arm over his chest and kneeling he said, "when darkness and evil consume the souls of the weak, the strong and mighty will survive and you will ultimately rule without hindrance."  
  
"Fuinur of Haradrim?"  
  
Lowering his head and kneeling he said, "we will strike fear into the hearts of those who seek to stop us from achieving the Ring my Lord."  
  
"Herumor of Haradrim?"  
  
Kneeling he said, "anyone who seeks to stop us, my Lord, will be destroyed. We will use any means necessary to retrieve the Ring."  
  
Gothmog of Forivie?"  
  
"In the end there will be darkness," kneeling he then said, "and I will be glad to serve you my Lord once that end is here and I will gladly serve you now to achieve that darkness."  
  
"It is as I expected," Sauron said. "I've had many a dark creature breed the best stallions. They were bred by darkness and will be rode by darkness. They will carry you on your journey, yet your travel will be hindered by sunlight especially when the sun is at its peak. Travel in shadows, at night you will be most powerful. You'll be able to see those of the dark, but mortals and other creatures of the light will cast shadows on your minds and you will see them clearly. Darkness and evil shall be your ally. Bring the Ring to me and you all shall reap the benefits darkness and evil have to offer."  
  
With that Sauron disappeared into the darkness. Nine horses rode up to their masters and their master's mounted them.  
  
The Lord of the Nazgûl turned his horse to face the others, "we are Riders, servants of Sauron, retrievers of the Ring. Let us ride together as One and in the name of Sauron."  
  
The Nine rode together out of the Shadow Realm into the darkness.  
  
Well, I hope my interpretation of the Rider's is somewhat accurate. I wanted to give the Black Riders/Nazgûl/Ringwraiths more of a say in the Lord of the Rings saga. I hope you liked reading this small story, if you've read the books you know the parts the Riders play. I'll end here for now anyway, please review!!! Also, Herumor and Fuinur were servants in Sauron's favor in the Silmarillion (pg.351) and they ruled Haradrim which is in the South. Also there are three Riders who are exiles from the high race of Numénor I believe they would be the Witch-King himself, Dakian, and Adierel. Gothmog I recently found in 'The Complete Guide to Middle-Earth' (and no, this is not Gothmog the Balrog). 


	3. We learn about the Riders

Disclaimer: I'm not Tolkien and I don't seek to gain profit from his writings. The names of the Riders are my own along with their kingdoms, with the exception of Khamûl and the Witch-King of Angmar. Hobbits, the Orcs, Sauron, the Shire and Riders are the idea of Tolkien. I'm also incorporating parts from both the book and movie.  
  
The following day the Nine were riding through the forest. The sun couldn't penetrate through the tops of the trees and wasn't at its peak. A dark shadow seemed to cover the sun. Creatures of the forest ran in every direction to avoid contact with the dark horses being ridden by even darker figures.  
  
"Adierel."  
  
"Yes Captain."  
  
"What was the name of that pitiful creature the orcs tortured?"  
  
"Gollum I believe."  
  
"Such a vile creature," Herumor said. "Although, it baffles me that it lasted that long under the torture of the orcs."  
  
"The orcs are losing their touch," Fuinur said. "They are fine warriors, a bit messy and crude, but they do accomplish the job. The orcs of the old would never have let that. . .Gollum escape."  
  
"The creature was once in possession of the Ring," Dakian said.  
  
The other Riders turned to him in surprise.  
  
"How do you know that?" Gothmog asked. "The orcs didn't get that information."  
  
"I could sense it," Dakian said. "The orcs may be proficient in physical torture, but I myself prefer mental torture."  
  
"Any kind of torture works for me," Melkan said evilly.  
  
"Is that what he was referring to as his 'precious?'" Khamûl asked Dakian.  
  
"Yes, the Ring hasn't lost its power," Dakian said.  
  
"The Ring easily twisted this Gollum," Seykin said. "The orcs could care less about the Ring, they live to serve and kill."  
  
"What we did receive from this creature are two key words 'Baggins' and 'Shire.' This is whom we must find and that is where we shall go," their Black Captain said. "We will track down Baggins and make him pay. Anyone who tries to stop us will meet a similar fate as this Baggins. Khamûl take Melkan, Seykin, and Gothmog and approach from the back of the Shire. Dakian, Adierel, Fuinur, and Herumor come with me. We shall approach at the entrance of the Shire. Now remember question every creature and let us discretely make our presence known."  
  
The Riders split up to go their respective ways.  
  
Khamûl led the Riders appointed to him. Though he was a young king when he came into contact with a ring he was a powerful leader and became known at the Black Easterling when he fell to darkness. He knew the Witch-King, their Dark Captain when they were mortals. The Witch-King was also young when he came into contact with a ring. Sauron knew they would accept the rings, the Witch-King most of all, after all he did command his own witch- realm of Angmar. A place notorious for its use of dark magic. He was a commanding presence and was known for his height as a mortal and as a Rider. Khamûl was pleased that he was second in command.  
  
Turning to the Riders he said, "Ride a distance apart so that we'll cover more ground. Stay within a close range so we'll be able to contact each other if we find anything."  
  
Riding alone, Gothmog followed a path on the road. He existed to serve Sauron and he would not fail. He was perhaps the most loyal of them all because he would follow any order Sauron gave without question. Even as a king in Forivie he ruled mostly on the advice of his advisors, but learned to control them. He was more a warrior than a king and commanded a mighty army, which was a reason why he caught Sauron's eye.  
  
The sound of his horse's hooves echoed on the well worn path. He stopped his horse suddenly, he could sense darkness. Getting off the horse he tried to extend his powers of darkness. He wasn't as sensitive as Dakian who could sense darkness in anything or as philosophical as Adierel, but he could somehow feel the Ring. He sniffed at the air hoping to catch a whiff of the darkness. The Ring's presence grew stronger drawing him to a log when suddenly it stopped. Screaming in anger he jumped back on his horse and rode furiously down the path, angry that he had lost the presence of darkness.  
  
Melkan rode his dark horse through a dilapidated town. The destructiveness drew him. He smiled beneath the robe savoring the evil. The flames of the buildings seemed to back away form him as he rode through town. Men were attacking each other in blind rage. It reminded Melkan of his glory days as a tyrannical king. He protected his people with an iron fist and he destroyed all that opposed him. Urging his horse forward he galloped through the destroyed town laughing quietly to himself.  
  
Seykin arrived in the outskirts of the Shire in the most rural section. He saw some hobbits having an argument outside of a barn over vegetables. He saw they were about to make up and shook his head in disgust. He stared at them reaching into their minds. The hobbits started physically fighting as Seykin twisted their minds drawing out their evil. Becoming bored he released his grip on their minds and left the area, leaving confused hobbits nursing their wounds.  
  
Khamûl on the other hand was questioning farmers about Baggins. He gripped their hearts with fear, drawing the information out of them.  
  
He rode up to one farmer's house. The dogs were whining in fear.  
  
"Do you know Baggins?" he questioned the farmer icily.  
  
The farmer looked at him suspiciously. "Baggins you say? Do mean the Sackville-Baggins' or just Baggins?"  
  
"Just Baggins," the Rider said coldly.  
  
"Well.I don't know either. Sorry I can't help you. What do you want him for anyway?"  
  
"You need not concern yourself hobbit," he replied. With that he rode down the road to meet with the other Riders.  
  
Farmer Maggot watched him disappear down the road and said to his dogs, "quite an unsavory character. I may not like young Baggins but I certainly won't turn him over to that Black Rider."  
  
Later, as darkness began to fall Khamûl sensed the presence of the Ring. Next to the Witch-King he could sense its presence when it was dormant. Though he was most confused during the daylight hours. He heard the rustle of leaves and saw small figures running. He urged his horse on and proceeded to chase halflings. One of whom held the Ring. He chased them until he reached a bridge. His horse abruptly stopped as he stared icily at the halflings on the Ferry. He would not step into water as deep as this. Whirling his horse he went to find his brethren and another crossing. They didn't need to know about this incident; after all they knew the direction in which the Ringbearer was heading.  
  
Well, I hope you like it so far. I still have to tell what happens to the Witch-King and the others so that's up and coming. I hope you like the personalities of the Riders I'm slowly trying to develop. Please review and tell me what you think! Thanks! 


	4. The Riders' journey to the Shire

Disclaimer: Middle Earth, the Shire, Gandalf, hobbits, and the places I've mentioned are Tolkien's, not mine. However, the names of the Riders are mine, though the initial creation of the Riders is Tolkien's.  
  
  
  
The Witch-King and the other Riders rode in the opposite direction to the same location. The Witch-King was familiar with most if not all of Middle Earth. His realm of Angmar was North of the land of the half-lings.  
  
Facing the other Riders he said, "I have sent the others South through Gondor, they should arrive in the Shire more swiftly than us. I will take a more direct route through Rohan. Fuinur and Herumor you will also ride through Rohan and go to every inn along the way. Question all you meet about a hobbit named Baggins. Adierel circle around and go through Mirkwood. Ride through the forest and cross the Anduin, there will be a mountain pass close to Lòrien. If they try to evade us, you will stop them. Dakian I want you to enlist the help of every creature that possesses true evil. Seek them out, have them spy for us, and once you have accomplished this meet us in the Shire, you'll know where. Now let's ride our separate ways and for the Ring."  
  
They each rode their separate ways. Dakian rode to Emyn Muil near the Falls of Rauros and dismounted. He stared at the falling water. Torrents of water smashing down on jagged rocks, chaos in nature. The rocks eroded under the water's force, sharpening the rocks to nature's daggers. If you went over the falls you would perish. There was no question about that. He walked to the darkest shadow of the tallest mountain in the Emyn Muil mountain range.  
  
He knelt down and stuck his sword in the earth. This was perhaps the site of the bloodiest battle in Middle Earth. Not many people knew of the slaughter or the sacrifices from the waterfall. Only the Oldest of the Old knew, but they never spoke of it. Dakian could sense the evil, the hatred. He whispered in Black Speech calling out to every dark creature. The sky darkened and a bolt of lightning hit the sword. Dakian sent a call to all things evil. He could sense evil gathering in every corner of Middle Earth. Grasping his sword he felt that evil course through him. He pulled it out of the ground and walked back to his horse. The sky slowly cleared and Dakian rode on, extending his senses for evil having sent his message.  
  
A black rook soaring in the sky flew down to Dakian. Extending his arm the rook landed on it. It stared intensely at him sending the mental message.  
  
"A wizard named Gandalf you say," Dakian said with interest.  
  
He whispered a message in Black Speech to deliver to his Dark Captain. The rook flew off at a dark speed joining a flock of its brethren. Dakian rode off in the direction of the Shire.  
  
Fuinur and Herumor rode on the main roads. They were an intimidating sight. Travelers gave them plenty of room to pass as they rode. The Riders rode on the road in haste, they could trample anything in their path. They stopped at each inn along the way. Inns like the Flying Hawk and the Sword's Edge didn't house hobbits.  
  
They rode up to the inn of the Prancing Pony. Other innkeeper's said it had rooms for hobbits. They rode up to a man at the West-gate.  
  
"We would like to speak with the proprietor of the establishment," Fuinur said.  
  
The man was shivering in fear.  
  
"Now!" Herumor hissed.  
  
The man jumped in shock.  
  
"Okay," he said startled.  
  
Herumor turned to Fuinur, "it's all too easy."  
  
The innkeeper appeared with the shivering man from before.  
  
"May I help you?"  
  
"We are searching for Baggins from the Shire. Do you have him residing at this inn?"  
  
"No Baggins has come through here. Why are you after him?"  
  
"He has a belonging of ours."  
  
"Well, I'm sorry."  
  
"Spread the word, any information on the whereabouts of Baggins will be rewarded in the end," Fuinur said directed the statement to both men.  
  
Herumor however was looking at another man.  
  
"Ferny!" The innkeeper yelled, "Keep working on that gate. I want those repairs done by the end of the month."  
  
Herumor rode up to Ferny. "I know you heard us. Be sure to spread the word."  
  
Fuinur and Herumor rode down the road.  
  
"The innkeeper won't spread the word. Do you think he was lying to us?" Herumor asked.  
  
"No, we would have sensed his deceit. At most he would have had fear in his eyes at the mention of the name Baggins."  
  
A flock of rooks flew overhead.  
  
"Such evil creatures," Herumor said admirably.  
  
"Let's continue to other inns until we reach the Shire," Fuinur said.  
  
They continued on the road.  
  
Meanwhile, Adierel was in Mirkwood in the bowels of the forest. He rode in the shadows avoiding the sun's rays. His horse's hooves seemed to make no sound on the forest floor. It reminded him of the elves who were said to have steps so light they made no sound. He knew Elvish and had dealt with their kind as a mortal king. But things change.  
  
"Hark! Dark stranger! Why are you riding? What are you searching for?"  
  
Adierel stopped his horse after hearing the singsong voice, "who's there?"  
  
"We are but travelers, yet we are not overcome by malice or hatred. What drives you Dark Rider? Is it the One you are riding for?"  
  
"It need not concern you. Show yourself."  
  
A lone elf stepped out from behind a tree. His white hair and pale blue eyes stood out in comparison to the cloaked rider and the shadow both Rider and horse cast.  
  
"I shall show myself. But mine eyes doth deceive me. Were you not once mortal? A king? Now you are but a shadow riding on mortality."  
  
"Not unlike the elves. Immortal.watching the world fall apart around you. All the while shadows of evil gathering. Full of darkness, yet created by the light."  
  
"I have heard of you Dark Rider. You are the one they call Adierel. Adierel the wise, the philosophical. What made you fall to the Ring?"  
  
"I ride for the One elf. Nothing shall deter me from that. You question, why I ride for it? It is simple, whether mortal or immortal evil has the ability to triumph. I would rather dominate with evil, than be dominated by it. I made my choice long ago and you do well to remember that."  
  
Adierel drew his sword.  
  
"I will remember that," the elf said.  
  
Before the eye could blink the elf disappeared. Adierel sheathed his sword and rode on.  
  
The Lord of the Nazgûl was riding like the wind to the Shire. He traveled through the shadows as if he was one with them. He had reached the outer edge of the Shire when a flock of rooks flew overhead.  
  
"Dakian." he said to himself.  
  
A rook flew down to him and gave him the message in Black Speech.  
  
"A wizard named Gandalf is assisting the ring bearer Baggins." He stared at the rook. "Locate them both and when you do alert me."  
  
The Witch-King rode into the Shire and questioned the first hobbit he saw. He towered over them on his black horse making him a vision of nightmares for years to come.  
  
"I am searching for Baggins of Bag End. Tell me where he is."  
  
"He doesn't live at Bag End anymore," the hobbit said trembling.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"He moved to Crickhollow beyond Bucklebury. He.left this morning."  
  
The Black Captain's horse galloped down the road at an unimaginable speed. He was riding through a field when a rook squawked above him. He followed it into a forest to a clearing.  
  
"Show yourself wizard," he commanded.  
  
Gandalf appeared from a line of trees. "So, Sauron has unleashed his Riders, I expected as much."  
  
"Where is the Ring Bearer?"  
  
"You'll never find him."  
  
"You think you can protect him. We will kill him to retrieve the Ring. The Ring will call to him and when he answers, we will find him."  
  
"You will not find him, I will make sure of that."  
  
Gandalf chanted a phrase and was engulfed in smoke. When it cleared he was gone.  
  
"We will find him wizard," the Witch-King said to himself.  
  
The Lord of the Nazgûl raised his sword and called out mentally to the Riders.  
  
"Nazgûl." the words echoed in the wind.  
  
The Riders rode to meet their leader.  
  
*  
  
Author's Note: Well, the Riders' journey continues. I was up late examining the map of Middle Earth so the locations I mentioned should be accurate. Also, I've made some revisions on the names of the Riders throughout the story. I bought the book "The Unfinished Tales" by Tolkien and found out more about the Riders. For example I found out the leader of the Nazgûl's identity and realm, and his second in command's name. All the others I made up. I'm sorry that it's taken a while for me to update, but I've been locating more accurate information on the Riders so you might have to wait a little more. Just to let you know the leader of the Nazgûl is referred to as the Black Captain, Lord of the Nazgûl, the Witch-King, and the Dark Captain. I'd like to thank the people who have reviewed so far, your reviews are appreciated and new reviews are more than welcome. 


	5. Wizards and Deceit

Disclaimer: The Ringwraiths are the creation of J.R.R. Tolkien. A lot of information in this chapter and others was retrieved from the book "The Unfinished Tales". The one quote from Saruman is from page 355. Though I'm trying to be accurate I'm trying to include both aspects of the book and movie.  
  
A shadow seemed to be cast over the Shire as the Riders rode to their leader. The hooves of the horses sounded like the rumble of thunder before a storm. They each arrived and faced their dark captain. Khamûl gripped his reins tightly, angry with himself for almost capturing the Ring near a place called the Bucklebury Ferry. The others need not know of his endeavor. Their steeds pawed the ground in anticipation of the ride.  
  
"We have a new enemy, a wizard named Gandalf," the Witch-King said. "He is assisting the Ringbearer, but I feel that another dark influence will deal with him. Nevertheless-"  
  
At that moment the overwhelming presence of the Ring assaulted each of them. Its dark power touched each one of them with a shadowed hand. They could feel the ever-present influence of Sauron as he savored his dark power in action. They could each see the Ringbearer and they each knew his location. As abruptly as it appeared it was cut off. But its remnant harbored a glaring beacon to its location.  
  
The Lord of the Nazgûl spoke first, "the Ring's power has not lapsed. Sauron will be most pleased."  
  
"The Ring is near," Fuinur said. "Herumor and myself investigated that Inn earlier."  
  
"The Inn known as the Prancing Pony," Herumor said concurring.  
  
The Witch-King nodded his robed head. "Let us move swiftly to retrieve the Ring. But there are other matters that need to be dealt with." He turned his horse to face one of the Riders. "Dakian, as our chief messenger contact Sauron and inform him of our progress. Since the Ring exuded a substantial amount of power Sauron's eye can see farther than ever. Beseech his help and counsel. Find out if there are any other dark entities willing to serve. You will know when and where to meet us."  
  
"I will ride to a dark place of contact," Dakian said. He rode away from the group.  
  
"Gothmog, Adierel, and Melkan, follow the trail of the wizard Gandalf. He could cause trouble for Sauron even if we retrieve the Ring. Determine his whereabouts and deal with him accordingly. Once you have done this meet us South of the Prancing Pony."  
  
The three Riders looked at each other. They wanted to go after the Ring, but understood their task was just as important.  
  
"Fuinur and Herumor, you know the quickest way to the Inn. Seykin, accompany them and find out if you can twist the mind of one who can help us. Khamûl and myself will follow and determine a course of action when we have accurately examined the situation."  
  
The Riders each rode their respective ways.  
  
"How are we supposed to track a wizard?" Melkan asked the other Riders.  
  
"Delve into the mindset of this wizard Melkan," Adierel said. "He seeks to prevent the Ring from going to Sauron. Therefore he will protect the Ringbearer. Although, if he feels threatened he will be a few steps ahead of the Ringbearer."  
  
"So, near the Ring, but far enough away to stray from its influence," Gothmog said.  
  
"Precisely," Adierel said. "We'll patrol the area a few miles from the Prancing Pony."  
  
Meanwhile, Fuinur, Herumor, and Seykin rode in haste to the Prancing Pony. They arrived within the hour, riding on the adrenaline of the Ring.  
  
"Open in the name of Mordor!" Herumor yelled at the gatekeeper.  
  
Fuinur and Seykin were riding behind him.  
  
The innkeeper yelled back, "Your kind is not welcome here. Go back to Mordor and leave your dark ways there."  
  
Word was slowly spreading about the Riders at the Inn. People started blowing horns as a warning and bolting shutters and doors.  
  
Herumor turned his horse around in anger. "Let the people blow their petty horns. They will be dealt with over time."  
  
They rode down a path to meet with their Dark Captain and Khamûl.  
  
"The Innkeeper of the Prancing Pony refuses us entry," Fuinor stated to them.  
  
Khamûl looked at the Witch-King. "Too many people are aware of our presence."  
  
"Then we shall wait for deep night," the Witch-King said. "Seykin, when the night comes seek out a mortal with evil in their heart. Then when the night is at its peak of loneliness we shall make our entrance."  
  
Herumor addressed Seykin. "A man named Ferny may assist our dark effort."  
  
"If he is the evil I felt then I shall seek him out," Seykin said. "When night falls I will find the evil."  
  
The Witch-King tilted his robed head upward as if he sensed a presence.  
  
"What do you sense?" Khamûl said sensing the change in the Witch- King.  
  
"We have a new ally," the Witch-king said thoughtfully.  
  
"Who?" Khamûl asked.  
  
"Saruman the White," the Witch-King said. "I will ride to the Gate of Isengard. Khamûl oversee the capture of the Ring. After your endeavor meet at South Downs. Then we shall ride to Mordor."  
  
"It will be done my Captain," Khamûl said.  
  
The Witch-King rode in haste down Old South Road to the Gate of Isengard.  
  
Elsewhere, Adierel, Gothmog, and Melkan were going from township to township trying to discover the direction Gandalf was heading. They found that they missed him by several days. Gandalf, the one known as Tharkûn "staff-man", Mithrandir, the Grey Pilgrim, Grey Wander, Greymantle, had eluded their grasp thus far.  
  
"I grow weary of this searching," Melkan said. "The disguise of Riders is wearing thin."  
  
"We still invoke terror," Gothmog countered.  
  
"Concentrate on the task at hand," Adierel reminded them. "I find it odd that the wizard's trail has abruptly ended. An Istari such as Gandalf would draw the attention of mortals, no matter how disguised."  
  
"Another evil presence perhaps," Melkan said. "Although, one not even I am familiar with."  
  
"We should meet with the others and tell them of this," Gothmog said.  
  
Nodding they rode to meet with their brethren.  
  
Seykin stood in the shadow of a willow tree near the Inn. He reached into the minds of the people and drew on their evil energy. The Ring haunted his progress. Herumor paced impatiently as he did this while Fuinor and Khamûl assisted Seykin.  
  
"The guard will leave his post at midnight to nap for an hour due to his newfound drunkenness," Seykin said triumphantly.  
  
"That is when you and I will enter with stealth," Khamûl said. "Fuinur and Herumor when you here my call you can enter as you will to meet us at the Inn."  
  
Herumor and Fuinur turned to look at each other. If Nazgûl could smile they would be grinning evilly. Clouds gathered above them foreboding of a storm. As the night continued a crash of thunder started a downpour. The rain in the darkness did not bother the Nazgûl as it dripped down the hoods of their robes.  
  
Khamûl and Seykin scaled the wall with ease as the hour of their entrance arrived. Peering into the Inn's windows they located the halflings' room. A shrill screech pierced the night air.  
  
Fuinur and Herumor gripped the reins of their horses and propelled their horses down the road to the gate. The sound of hooves meshed with thunder as their power caused them to break down the gate. Khamûl and Seykin were waiting for them. Dismounting they all unsheathed their swords together. The door of the Inn slammed to the wall. No one got in their way or even dared to look at them.  
  
Khamûl held up his armored hand. "We must be as silent as possible. For soon their screams will break the silence; I want them to be screams of horror and surprise."  
  
The others nodded and the door opened without a creak. Ducking into the room they each took a position near a bed with a blanketed form. Waiting for Khamûl's nod they prepared their swords. When he nodded they thrust their swords into the forms. Feathers flew into the air. The blood and screams they anticipated did not come. Khamûl threw off the blankets to reveal feathered pillows.  
  
"We have been deceived!" Fuinur yelled.  
  
Herumor screamed in anger and stormed out of the room followed by the others. Neither of them noticed a face watching from a window across the way. The thunderstorm increased in force as the Nazgûl called their horses.  
  
"Let us ride out of this pitiful excuse for a village and find the others. Then we shall ride to South Downs," Khamûl said.  
  
They rode out the gate and down the road. The only trace of their presence was the lingering fear of the people. The rain washed all the rest away.  
  
The Lord of the Nazgûl slowed his horse for a moment as he heard the screams of the other Riders. The Ring had eluded their grasp again. He whirled horse around in a circle, snapped the reins, and rode to Isengard with a new sense of malice. Horse and Rider appeared as a black blur on the road knocking aside unwary travelers and merchants. Many ran off the road in terror fearing an unknown shadow.  
  
When the rays of sunrise pierced the clouds the Lord of the Nazgûl arrived at the Gate of Isengard. Orcs stared at the Ringwraith for a moment but went back to making weaponry. The Witch-King did not doubt that it was the will of Sauron when he saw the Orcs breeding Uruk-Hai.  
  
Saruman met him at the gate anticipating his arrival. Gandalf had escaped his grasp and he had sent spies to find the location of the Ring. He knew he was an enemy to both and only hoped the Nazgûl did not know of it.  
  
The Lord of the Nazgûl did not trust this new ally. "I seek to speak with the one called Saruman!" he demanded. When he received no answer he said with force, "if I do not receive an answer the wrath of Sauron will rain down upon you!"  
  
A voice spoke as if it came from the gate itself. "'It is not a land that you look for. I know what you seek, though you do not name it. I have it not, as surely its servants perceive without telling me; for if I had it, then you would bow before me and call me Lord. And if I knew where this thing was hid, I should not be here, but long gone before you take it. There is one only whom I guess to have this knowledge: Mithrandir, enemy of Sauron. And since it is but two days since he departed from Isengard seek him nearby.'"  
  
The Lord of the Nazgûl was surprised at the force of the voice, but he didn't show it. "I shall search in Rohan," his voice rang out. But before he rode away he said, "but I assure you any search I make will not be in vain."  
  
As the Ringwraith rode away Saruman breathed a sigh of relief and went back to supervising the building of an army. Unbeknownst to Saruman the Lord of the Nazgûl was riding in haste back to meet with the others.  
  
Meanwhile, Dakian had spent many days in deep meditation relaying their progress to Sauron. He was in the river port town of Tharbad. It was ruined and deserted, resting next to the river Greyflood. The river's other name was Gwathlò; the Sindarin name for shadow was gwath. Many had perished due to the flooding by the River of Shadow. Dakian was in a dark cave kneeling humbly. A fiery eye appeared before him.  
  
"We have yet to retrieve the Ring, my Lord," Dakian said. "It has thus far eluded us. I believe that the Ringbearer is receiving assistance."  
  
"This is true," Sauron said. "Our new ally Saruman had captured the wizard Gandalf, but he escaped." The eye grew in intensity. "Saruman seeks the Ring for himself, I see through his lies. He is building an army for me, but seeks to use the Uruk-hai for his own purpose. He lied to the Witch- King only proving his own deceit. The wizard is heading to Rivendell; I have seen him. The Ringbearer will go there with a Ranger and other halflings. Kill all who seek to keep the Ring from me. Feel free to torture at will and invoke terror, my servant."  
  
The eye faded and Dakian was left alone in the cave. But the eye of Sauron was always watching.  
  
Author's Note: Yes, I finally updated! This chapter took a while to write because of the research I did for it. But other things led me to be busy. I hope you like this chapter. In the next one there will be a scene with Amon Sûl or rather Weathertop. Until then, please review! Riders gesture to the review button with their swords 


	6. A spy, Weathertop, and a flood

Disclaimer: The Riders and all Middle-Earth are Tolkien's and I haven't gained profit from this story.  
  
The Witch-King rode in haste to meet with the other Riders. He still retained much of his magical ability he had attained with his rule over the realm of Angmar. At times he could extend it to the other Riders, but he was concentrating most of his power on propelling the horse to the closest Rider. At the moment he was on the Old South Road that would take him through Tharbad where he could sense Dakian. To the untrained eye his robes flailed behind him like the waves of a turbulent ocean. If one could view him in slow motion his robes seemed to flow around him like a dark river.  
  
Meanwhile, Khamûl was leading the others to South Downs. To their knowledge they still had to maintain an aura of stealth. In daylight they traveled in the shadows of the forest. They were less powerful at this time, for the daylight diminished their presence. Khamûl could sense the presence of the Ring almost as proficiently as the Witch-King. The only downfall was that he was the most disoriented in the sun's rays. As daylight waned they arrived at South Downs. Fuinur and Gothmog attended to the horses. Though they were shadowy visages, their horses still were mortal. Herumor, Melkan, and Seykin were bent on sharpening their swords to perfection, reinforcing the incantations. Adierel sat with Khamûl who was keeping watch.  
  
"The sun sinks below the horizon," Khamûl stated. "The night's denizens will be out soon."  
  
"We sank below the horizon long ago," Adierel said. "Yet we are out representing the darkness in light."  
  
Elsewhere, the Witch-King rode up to a dark figure on horseback.  
  
"You have contacted Sauron?" the Witch-King questioned.  
  
"Yes he-"  
  
They both turned to a shadow near the crossing. To those not of the darkness it was but a still shadow, to the wraiths the shadow trembled.  
  
Dismounting, Dakian grabbed the shadow while the Witch-King drew his sword. The form twisted in the Nazgûl's vice grip.  
  
The Witch-King's deep raspy voice said, "Why do you hide in the shadows?"  
  
Dakian tilted his head as he went through the Dunlending's thoughts. "He is a spy," he said to the Witch-King.  
  
"A spy," the Witch-King said thoughtfully  
  
"A spy of Saruman," Dakian said.  
  
"Tell me, do you know of the connection between the Istari Saruman and Istari Gandalf?" The Witch-King asked bringing his sword close to the Dunlending.  
  
Grìma Wormtongue stared at the sword and trembled. He cowered in the presence of the Nazgûl. Though a counselor of King Thèoden he had become and agent of Saruman; the only thing on his mind now was his survival.  
  
"'Yea, yea, verily I can tell you, Lord.'" The Witch-King took the sword away for the time being. "'I have overheard their speech together in Isengard. The land of halflings: it was thence that Gandalf came, and desires to return. He seeks now only a horse.'"  
  
The Witch-King grabbed Wormtongue by the throat pushing him into a wall. "You speak of things which have already come to pass! Do you even know where the land of the halflings lies?"  
  
Wormtongue yelped in terror and said, "'Spare me! I speak as swiftly as I may, West through the Gap of Rohan yonder, and then north and a little west, until the next great river bars the way; the Greyflood it is called.' The river which we are now near. 'Thence from the crossing at Tharbad the old road will lead you to the borders. 'The Shire,' they call it.'"  
  
"Does Saruman know of this location?" the Witch-King said squeezing his throat.  
  
"'Yea verily, Saruman knows of it.'" He struggled for a breath. "'Goods come to him from that land down the road.'" He then pleaded, "'Spare me, Lord! Indeed I will say naught of our meeting to any that live.'"  
  
The Lord of the Nazgûl released Wormtongue from his grip and walked to his horse. Wormtongue still was on the ground sobbing to himself out of pure terror.  
  
Dakian walked to the Witch-King, "You're sparing him?"  
  
"Yes. Terror envelops him, he will tell no one of our encounter. Evil such as his should roam free. He could cause more harm to Saruman alive than dead. Besides he will be plagued with nightmares the rest of his days."  
  
"What Sauron has seen is true," Dakian said. "The ringbearer is a halfling and is heading toward Rivendell. Saruman's intentions are no longer Sauron's own."  
  
"Saruman's vengeance will have to wait," the Witch-King said. He sheathed his sword and mounted his horse. "Let us go meet with the others."  
  
Dakian mounted his horse and followed the Witch-King leaving Wormtongue on the ground.  
  
Fuinur was on watch at South Downs. Turning to the others he said, "dark figures approach."  
  
Khamûl said, "It must be Dakian and our captain."  
  
Darkness came over the camp confirming their suspicions. Dakian and the Witch-King rode into the camp.  
  
"What news do you bring?" Adierel questioned.  
  
"Our supposed ally is conspiring against Sauron," the Witch-King said.  
  
"Who is the one of which you speak?" Khamûl demanded.  
  
"An Istari named Saruman," Dakian said. "Sauron himself has seen his deceit, as have we with a spy."  
  
Seykin spoke up, "will our stealth be required any longer?"  
  
"No," the Witch-King said. "We are to kill the one who bears the ring at whatever costs we deem necessary."  
  
Melkan was staring oddly in the distance. "I sense a light in the darkness," he said.  
  
"Fire," Gothmog said. "Fifty miles off."  
  
"The weather hill of Amon Sûl," Khamûl said.  
  
"The Ring," the Witch-King said.  
  
"Khamûl, Fuinur, Herumor, and Melkan come with me. Dakian, Adierel, Seykin, and Gothmog follow in our stead and patrol the outlying region," the Witch- King said.  
  
With their swords in hand they mounted their horses and rode into the direction of the Weather Hills. With the darkness as their ally they passed quickly over the fields and Great East Road.  
  
The light was abruptly extinguished and they dismounted simultaneously. The five surrounded Amon Sûl. The Witch-King was familiar with the crumbling watchtower. Mighty it had stood, but crumbled it now remained. Under his reign of Angmar he had personally seen to its destruction. Each of the Riders smelled the desire of life of those on the hill, but quelled that desire with hatred. The night had revealed to them footprints and discarded firewood. They sniffed the air and saw the shadowed shape of figures in their minds.  
  
The fire was lit once again only fueling the anger of the Riders. Fire was apart of the light and could do them damage. Someone among the enemy must have a substantial knowledge of the darkness of Mordor.  
  
The Riders navigated the labyrinth of shadows the moonlight cast. The five Riders stood atop the hill. Their statuesque forms held their swords tightly. Fuinur and Herumor stood rigidly at the edge of the dell while the Witch-King, Khamûl, and Melkan advanced.  
  
The Witch-King was a tall, imposing figure between Khamûl and Melkan. He stared intensely at the halfling who bore the Ring.  
  
"Bow to the whims of the Ring halfling. Give us what we desire!" The Witch- King's voice came out like a hiss from a venomous snake. He concentrated his dark powers on the halfling who stared in fear, but was overcome by the Ring.  
  
As the Ring was put on the finger of the halfling Khamûl and Melkan stopped abruptly. The Witch-King could see that the halfling saw the shadowed figures of their previous kingly forms. The pale face of the Witch-King merely smiled in amusement as the halfling drew his sword. The eye of Sauron radiated its fiery fury. The Witch-King drew a knife, which glowed eerily with an aura of pure darkness. He leapt at the halfling aiming the knife at the heart of the halfling. The halfling struck at the feet of the Witch-King. The Nazgûl's path was strayed from the heart but still bore into flesh. The Witch-King's eyes darkened in excitement at the halfling's scream.  
  
The halfling slipped off the ring as a figure jumped at the Witch- King with a fire in hand. Khamûl fought the Ranger with sword in hand. Khamûl fought the Ranger with sword but his robe caught fire. The others fought but started being consumed with fire. The Witch-King looked at his torn robe in anger fighting the resistant Ranger.  
  
"Come my captain!" Khamûl called. The Witch-King still fought in a frenzy, "Dùrien!"  
  
The Witch-King froze at the mention of his true name and stormed off as the fire started consuming his robe. When he ran off the dell he discarded his fiery robe like the others who had caught on fire. He was unclad and invisible in the night, but could sense the shadowy specters of the other four.  
  
Dakian led the other Riders to the invisible forms of their kin. He could sense their presence in the darkness.  
  
Adierel handed them robes saying, "Daylight draws near."  
  
"Daylight will not help the halfling," the Witch-King said. "The blade of Daegirth will see to that. Give the effects of darkness time and he will become one of us. When he does, the Ring will be ours. We must get him in our clutches before someone who has the resources heals him. It appears we've encountered more resistance than we initially anticipated."  
  
The Riders used the cover of darkness to heal from the efforts of the fire. As sunrise approached they patrolled the area. They could sense the ringbearer who was being ensnared by the shadow, but something clouded their vision.  
  
Eight days passed of tracking the ringbearer. The Witch-King concentrated his energy on hastening the incantation's effects on the wound, as the ringbearer grew weaker. Melkan, Seykin, and Dakian worked on nightmares, which would haunt the halfling in its fevered dreams. Dakian seemed to enjoy haunting the dreams with winged shadows.  
  
On the ninth day Gothmog addressed the Witch-King. "There is an elf about, my captain. I have sensed him while on watch."  
  
"That is a presence I've felt growing in my mind," Adierel said.  
  
When the sun set the Riders concentrated their respective energies. They sent images of darkness, but then they felt. . .hope.  
  
"The elf has reached the halfling," Dakian said.  
  
They slowly tracked the trail of the enemy. Under shield of night they could ride silently. When the enemy reached the darkest part of the road they each urged their horses to gallop down the road. The echo of the horse's hooves was utilized to draw terror. The Witch-King rode yelling, "The Ring! Give it to us!" To others it sounded like a shrill cry.  
  
Herumor, Fuinur, Seykin, and Gothmog appeared behind the Witch-King. Khamûl and Dakian rode to the horse with the halfling and the elf. Melkan and Adierel galloped madly to cut off their escape route to the ford ahead. They each rode with the force of a dark wind preparing for a storm. They rode past the enemy; the only though in their mind was the Ring for Sauron.  
  
The Riders yelled in anger when the elf used its magic to propel its horse. Even the great steeds of the Riders could not overtake the white Elvish- horse, but they could match it.  
  
Khamûl called in a fell voice, "You'll never succeed! You will fall into darkness!"  
  
"Let the shadow consume you! Embrace it!" Dakian called.  
  
"It is the only way," the Witch-King yelled. "You'll never escape the darkness!"  
  
The hoods of the Riders flew back. Their pale forms had revealed robes of white and grey.  
  
"The shadow is cast by the light!" Adierel called. "Only in the darkness can you truly become apart of the light!"  
  
The Elvish horse entered water, but the Riders paused. The Witch- King entered the water testing its power. He reared his horse in frustration.  
  
The halfling yelled, "'Go back to the Land of Mordor and follow me no more!'"  
  
The Witch-King halted and looked to the Riders. They each laughed cruelly at the halfling's feeble resistance.  
  
"'Come back!'" Khamûl yelled. "Come to us!"  
  
"'To Mordor we shall take you!'" the Witch-King called.  
  
The halfling whispered desperately, but the Riders chanted, "'The Ring! The Ring!'"  
  
The halfling yelled at the Riders in vain, but was silenced by the Witch- King who rode to the middle of the river. The rest of the Riders followed. The halfling dropped his sword in terror when the Witch-King reached the shore.  
  
"'Give us the halfling!'" the Witch-King demanded.  
  
The fair-haired elf cried, "If you want him you'll have to go through me!" He started chanting Elvish.  
  
"He conspires with his people!" Dakian said alarmed.  
  
The water began to rise and the Riders noticed a wave coming towards them. Their horses started rearing in terror. The Riders on shore hesitated until white figures bathed in fire forced them to a watery fate. The horses of all the Riders were filled with madness as they were thrust into the flood.  
  
Before the Riders were swept away the Witch-King yelled, "You've not seen the last of us!"  
  
A wave with white riders and their foamy steeds crashed over their robed forms and when it passed it left only the shadow of what the sun cast.  
  
Author's Note: Yay! I finally updated, let me tell you a lot of research went into this. A special thanks goes out to tikimoof who told me the names Herumor and Fuinur, that are mentioned in the Silmarillion (pg.351), which I coincidently received as a birthday present. Anyway the phrases with "'. . .'" these indicate that I borrowed them from the Unfinished Tales in the case of Wormtongue (pg.355) and the Fellowship of the Ring at Amon Sûl (pg.209). Anyway, the story is far from over, once more research is attained (which may take a bit because of this lovely college work I received) I'm going to write about what happened to the Riders after the flood. The Witch-King's true name I made up, but it includes elements of Elvish and the name of the knife is the same thing. I've made corrections with names in the story and clarified some things, so feel free to go back and read things over. Anyway, please review. Riders urge all to review with their swords 'casually' in their hands 


	7. Acquisition of the Fell Beasts

Disclaimer: The names of the Fell Beasts are mine! And everything else is Tolkien's of course. I'm not stealing his work, just doing justice to the Nazgûl and making my muses (them) happy by telling their story.

The water of the Bruinen receded when Lord Eldrond's spell dissipated. No signs of the Nazgûl were found, save for the torn remnant of a black robe. But even that was washed away in the flowing water. In a matter of minutes, the river went back to its normal level and there was no visible sign that the Nazgûl were ever there.

Their invisible forms floated in the murky parts of the river. They acclimated to the shadows, even though they were prone. The water had ill effects on the Nazgûl. It was not that they feared it. . .no, they were fear. It repelled them. This particular river's magic did naught to improve their chances of escaping the watery prison. Luck was with them when the Bruinen joined the Mitheithel at Tharbad to form the Gwathlo. Its name was shadow and that was what the Nazgûl required.

As memories of darkness permeated the water a damp hand reached out from its depths. The Witch King was not pleased at this moist turn of events. He crawled to the bank of the river and turned his head, calling for the other Nazgûl.

The shrill call of the Witch King caused ripples in the river and forms arose from the watery disturbance. They regrouped around their leader.

"How dare that halfling stand up to us!" Gothmog said practically seething with rage.

"The impudence of that elf that aided him!" Khamûl said shaking water from his form.

A ray of sunlight peeked out from the trees and they huddled in the shadows.

"We will gain our vengeance," the Witch-King stated. "For the moment we must heal in Minas Morgul. We must also see about getting new steeds."

"Lord Sauron will not be pleased," Dakian said as they crept in the shadows.

"He will punish us," Herumor whispered.

Fuinur ran his form into him. "Do not speak such ill thoughts or they will come to pass."

Adierel said thoughtfully, "Mayhap Lord Sauron will be pleased."

Melkan muttered, "Pleased that we lost the steeds that took years to breed in darkness? We have not the time to breed them again."

"No," Adierel said. "Pleased that now he has fueled more hatred from the Elven race."

Seykin chuckled. "Lord Sauron will enjoy the evil thoughts."

The Witch-King silenced them. "We will all find out in due time what Lord Sauron's will shall be. In the meantime, place your thoughts in darkness and plot revenge."

"Yes Captain," the Nazgûl chorused in unison.

The Nine arrived in Minas Morgul after hours of traversing the shadows on foot. The orcs that amassed there quickly parted as a cold wind swept into the mountain fortress. They had learned early on not to be in its deadly path. The Nazgûl drew strength from their mountain dwelling. It's evil permeated their being and they breathed in its aroma of death and torture.

They had dwelt in Minas Morgul for years; they were the ones who changed its name from Minas Ithil to Minas Morgul. When Sauron 'fell' because of Isildur they took the once fair place and devoured it with shadow. As their forms fell to darkness, so too did the valley. The living ghosts were the cause of the decay, along with the battalion of orcs they sought to train. They reveled in their citadel of evil, in their Ephel Dùath, their Mountains of Shadow.

New robes rested on their corporal forms. They became more like wraiths around beings and places of light, but in darkness and in the height of their power their bodies were able to make themselves known. Their seeming invisibility unclad was not a weakness; instead it was a strength when they were together, for they would use terror as an ally.

Putting on their armor and swords they made their way to an ornate throne room. An adamantine throne stood out among the other thrones, which formed a semi-circle about an elaborate structure. A large claw extended from the stone floor, outstretched and holding a dark crystal sphere. A ring of fire surrounded its base and rumor had it, among the orcs, that the fire had never gone out, for the Nazgûl's fueled it with evil and their servitude to Sauron.

The Witch-King sat in the middle of the semi-circle and the other Nazgûl took their respective thrones. They chanted softly in Black Speech:

"Goth Sauron. Hu-na Goth Sauron. Urdanog lab sharbtur."

The chant became faster and louder until it fell silent. The flames about the claw rose to the height of the Witch-King and subsided beneath the outstretched talons of the claw. The Nazgûl stood as the flames decreased and knelt before the crystal. A flaming eye appeared in its black depths and the smoky figure of Lord Sauron stood above them.

_Rrau._

The Nazgûl arose and bowed their heads as they took their seats.

_Much has transpired since I last spoke to all of you together. _

"Indeed Lord Sauron," the Witch-King said. "We made chase after the Ring-bearer but he crossed into Elven lands and a spell prevented us from pursuing."

_The Elves. . .they always get in the way. Suffering will be had for their interference, their hatred and battle rage will be used to my advantage. _

"Our steeds were drowned my Lord," the Witch-King said. "The spell swept us down river and the mortality of the horses were not able to withstand the water's fury."

_I see. . .it is fortunate that I was planning on bestowing a gift to you, my most loyal servants._

"A gift my Lord?"

_Indeed. . .there are creatures from the abyss I have captured for expressly your purposes. They will aid you in your hunt for the Ring and in battle. They are Fell Beasts and reside in the dungeons of your citadel; they have been incubating for many centuries. Hatch them with fire, feed them with flesh, and train them for your purposes. _

"Yes my Lord," the Witch-King bowed his head. "Many thanks for your generosity."

_Thank me by wreaking havoc and terror across the land in my name. Thank me by retrieving my Ring. _

The rest of the Nazgûl bowed their heads and Sauron's figure faded. The black crystal went dark once more and the flames descended.

The Witch-King stood and turned to the others. "Let us hatch darkness and nurture it for evil."

The Nazgûl extended their senses as they traversed the crumbling stairs to the dungeons. Orcs steered clear of their paths, which showed that even orcs possessed a level of intelligence that bordered on rationality. The Witch-King kicked open a barred door and ducked his head as he entered. The room was practically a cave. The air was dank and water dripped from stalactites. This was not surprising since the city was built into the mountain. Sauron must have anticipated his servant's desires and sealed the entrance to this room. Back in the times of Minas Ithil none dared venture to this particular dungeon, for there was talk of a sleepless malice.

"Illska," the Witch-King whispered, trembling in delight. He extended his hand, motioning for the others to do the same, and fire emanated from their outstretched palms. In the beginning they were repelled by fire and its light. But now, they had learned to harness it and feed off of its destructive tendencies.

The room started to shake and the Nazgûl stood still, continuing to bathe the walls with fire. Stalactites buckled under the shaking and those just coming into their length fell to the ground. The Nazgûl watched the walls of the cave glow red and saw oval forms bulge through the stone. The ovals started to shift and writhing figures came forth from them.

The Witch-King lowered his hand and the others did the same. "A baptism by fire," he stated.

They each walked toward their respective beast. The Witch-King chose the largest one and it blinked its eyes at him, eyes that were still filled with the fire of birth, so close to resembling its true home in the abyss. It seemed to be a debased form of a dragon and had an acrid smell. He looked to it and slowly said, "zo." Ignoring the steam rising from its form he stroked its flank and named it, "Kiloshui."

Khamûl knelt beside another. Placing a hand on its nose he called it, "Baurukola."

Gothmog took his hand away from the hilt of his sword when the fell beast nudged it and nodded calling it, "Kordatarsi."

Dakian placed a hand on the fell beast's head and reached into its mind learning its name. "Odavathar."

Adierel nodded to his fell beast calling it, "Namatringa."

Herumor stood before his fell beast and whispered, "Mirundume."

Fuinur regarded his fell beast, which regarded him back and spoke, "Hakheru."

Seykin motioned his fell beast over and called it, "Druvorima."

Melkan let the fell beast sniff his hand and dubbed it, "Motshamoore."

The Witch-King looked to the other Nazgûl and nodded. "We shall have to start training them immediately. Time is of the utmost importance and we must make sure it is on the side of evil. So. . .let us find our Fell Beasts some flesh."

The Nazgûl walked into the dungeons and ordered the torturemaster to flay some prisoners that they didn't require anymore. They seemed pleased when the Fell Beasts engulfed the flesh and lapped up the blood. The orcs quickly learned about the Fell Beasts and made the proper arrangements to acquire meats for the Nazgûl's dark creatures.

As the Fell Beasts grew, so to did the Nazgûl's ability to command and control them. They mounted the creatures and were able to fly them about the mountains. They quickly became known as the Winged Shadows.

Translations:

"Goth Sauron. Hu-na Goth Sauron. Urdanog lab sharbtur."- Lord Sauron. Enter Lord Sauron. Command your servants

Rrau-Sit

Illska-Evil

Zo-Mine

Author's Note: Took me a couple years, with lots of research but I finally updated! With even more research I plan on writing more chapters with flashbacks and backgrounds of the Nazgûl. Yes, I even plan on writing about Dol Guldur, the attack on Thranduil's realm and the attack on Osgiliath when Boromir held it (flashbacks will be my friend), I just haven't mentioned these events yet. So basically, this chapter sets up things to come, lol. In this chapter figured that I may as well give the Fell Beasts names, they're each combinations of Black Speech and Quenya, if you really want to know what they mean, just let me know and I'll post them in the next chapter. Anyway, please review! Lures fell beast away from the review button with some meat


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